Why Do We Fall?
by skittlezlvr19
Summary: What's worse than the zombie apocalypse?


**A:N/ This story is based on an amazing YouTube video. The creator of the video has given me permission to create this story. Everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

* * *

New Orleans was different from what he remembered. Of course, the city had been fun and lively, a little too lively for his taste. He would scowl as the people around him would laugh and joke around with one another, dancing to the jazz music that echoed into his ears.

The many famous seafood restaurants, parades, and festivals had attracted many tourists, and they would've attracted Nick too if he wasn't allergic to craw fish and hated parades. Back then, he had wished he would've gone to Florida instead. At least they had real music over there.

But now, walking through the desolate streets with his three companions he had just met, with barely any energy left from fleeing a horde of infected, he wouldn't have minded the jazz music or the laughter.

It would be better than the sound of his shoes squishing against the blood over the street, or the sound of bombs falling every few minutes through the tall buildings.

Nick looks over his shoulder to see the young mechanic scrunch his eyebrows together with worry. His Bull-shifters T-shirt is covered in blood, and he holds in precious Scar in his hands, saving his last clip for when they need it. Rochelle walks beside him, her Sniper clutched in her arms.

She is walking with her head down, but Nick can see her eyes tighten as the blood over the street becomes thicker and thicker. Her brown boots are coated in blood around her toes. Her pink T-shirt isn't as bloody as Ellis', but her arm is badly bruised from a run in with a Charger.

Nick looks over his other shoulder, tightening the grip on his Magnum, to look over the tall dark man beside him. Coach has the same expression he had when they had gotten off Virgil's boat, and actually it bothered the con man at first.

He had made some jokes, apparently a little too sarcastic, and stopped when Coach silenced him with a hard glare.

Coach holds his auto shotgun with his gloved right hand, his left swinging at his side.

Above them, a Hunter crawls on the roof of a building quietly, watching for the perfect chance to pounce the small team.

Behind them, a Smoker limps to the other side of the street quickly, coughing quietly to himself, waiting for the perfect chance to snag one of the Survivors with his tongue.

Nick stops in his tracks he rounds the corner of a bus and sees the clearing of the football stadium. This is weird, he thinks. We were just walking down the street covered with parked cars and infected. How the hell are we in a football stadium?

He holds Rochelle back as she tries to pass him, and she looks at him questioningly, but he holds his finger to his lips and shakes his head. Buses are parked everywhere in the football stadium and a large green tent is in one of the corners.

It is ominously quiet.

The stadium is covered in gravel and bodies, and the faded white lines of the grass are snuffed out with paint. Nick's eyes tighten as he reads the paint on the grass.

There are soldiers in black, clunky gear and masks near the large green tent. One of them stands up and points to the group, and the one that had his back to the survivors turns around.

Nick has a feeling that these soldiers aren't exactly friendly, but before he can make a move, they are surrounded.

Before he knew it, Nick and the others are on their knees, hands cuffed behind their backs, listening to the head soldier bark at them. Nick stares at the soldier menacingly, looking in his peripheral vision at the other soldiers who have their guns cocked at the four survivors. Nick swears and struggles with the handcuffs around his wrists.

Nick gets angrier and angrier as the soldier explains to them that to keep the rest of the city safe, they would have to kill them. Nick argues, explaining that they traveled all the way from Georgia just to be rescued in New Orleans. The city was already overwhelmed by the Infected anyway.

The soldier laughs, and makes a cutting remark about the survivors, calling them 'carriers', and saying they will be shot soon, but not soon enough.

With a yell, Nick snaps out of his restraints and attacks the soldier. He attempts to raise his fist to smash the soldier's face in, but the gloved hand is around his neck too fast, and is tightening quickly. Nick cries out for air as he is lifted off his feet, and is thrown to the pavement.

The other three survivors make no move to break free. They all watch in horror as Nick crumples to the ground, and is knocked unconscious as the soldier's foot comes down upon him multiple times.

Tears stream down Ellis and Rochelle's face as the soldier stops and orders the others to hurry up with the rest of them. They hurry behind the remaining survivors.

Ellis bites his lip and closes his eyes as the barrel of the gun is pressed against the back of his head.

Rochelle stares at the unconscious Nick with tears pouring from her brown eyes as the barrel of the gun is pressed against her back.

Coach stares up at the sky and says a silent prayer as the gun is pressed underneath his jaw.

Three guns go off all at once.

* * *

The infected rush at them with shocking speed, much faster than what he remembers.

He glances at Coach, Ellis, and Rochelle at his side, guns raised. The infected become even bigger, gathering into a group so big than what he thought possible.

Ellis glares at the infected as he pulls a pipe bomb from his pocket, and lights it.

The Hunter growls loudly as he crawls closer to Nick, and Nick turns to see the zombie not too far away, about to pounce.

Ellis pulls his arm back and tosses it into the middle of the horde, and its bounces against the pavement, beeping loudly, finally going off.

The bullet from Nick's Magnum strikes the infected in the head, and it falls to the ground with its hood over his face.

As the pipe bomb explodes, the survivors run into the safe room, closing the door behind them.

Just as he thought they were safe, Nick turns to a bright white light, and drops his gun to the floor as the soldier stands in his way, gun in hand. The light becomes so bright Nick raises his hand to his face to see, and opens his eyes.

The sky is a cloudless blue, and the sun shines brilliantly. Nick turns his head, and tears collect in his eyes as he forces down the vomit in his achy throat.

Ellis lays on his stomach, his cheek resting in his own blood that is still trickling from the back of his head. His blue trucker hat lays not far away.

Rochelle lays on her back, her arms sprawled out beside her. Her face seems to be bruised and swollen.

Coach lays face down, his neck turned at an unnatural angle. Fresh blood pumps from his neck. His brown eyes are open and unmoving.

Nick stands up shakily, staring at his teammates. His breathing accelerates, and more tears fall from his cheeks, tears he never thought he would shed for the three people whom he had just met. He could not comprehend what had just happened.

It was like they had slipped through his fingers. He can see their bodies, but there was not anything there, like their souls has been emptied from their heads.

It was hard to process that he would never hear them speak again, smile again, laugh again, he would never see them do anything.

In a daze, he buries all three of them next to each other, and sticks a wooden cross on each. He stares at the freshly ground up dirt.

He would never hear Rochelle telling him to leave Ellis alone after making fun of his crush on Zoey.

He would never hear Coach telling him to get up off the ground and keep going after he had been down.

And worst of all, he would never hear any one of those damn Keith stories ever again.

His heart feels like it's sinking. It feels like nothing is ever going to get better and there is nothing to look forward to. What is the point of living if they're gone?

Nick reaches down and picks up an abandoned pistol near his feet.

He checks the clip, and reloads it. He places the gun on the side of his head, near his temple.

He looks up at the sky, and closes his eyes. His hand is shaking, and he places his finger on the trigger.

Then he brings the gun down from his head, and lets it fall to the dirt as anger and rage rise within his system.

His hand clenches into a fist.

He walks briskly through a cemetery and abandoned streets, not even bothering to kill the few infected loitering around him. He just continues to walk, the same expression on his face, the pistol in his hand.

He knows exactly where he's going, and what he's going to do.

He comes up in front of a soldier, who stands in front of a church, and fires the pistol straight through the helmet and into his head.

The soldier crumples to the ground. Nick kicks him aside and continues to walk towards the church.

It has brown bricks, and is a 12 story luxurious Victorian church. It is surrounded by neatly trimmed trees and grass, and tall pointed towers rise from the roof. Windows surround the separate towers, and there are various brown, elegant doors leading towards the entrance of the church.

He bursts through the doors. Pews lined with red fabric and shiny brown wood are lined up inside the church.

A brown leather Bible lays open near the front, where a large cross stands with Jesus hung upon it. The soldier stands near the end of the aisle, with two armed guards on either side of him.

Nick is trembling with anger, and the soldier walks toward him slowly. Nick feels his veins fill with adrenaline as he gets closer.

It was like his teammates were a fragment of his imagination, and he grasped onto his memories of them, but the memories all seemed like dreams.

With a cry of rage, Nick raises his fist to collide it with the soldier's face.


End file.
